


Five times Gene sang for Sam and one time Sam returned the favor

by basaltgrrl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Canon Related, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basaltgrrl/pseuds/basaltgrrl
Summary: Singing.  And a little dancing.





	Five times Gene sang for Sam and one time Sam returned the favor

1\. One-Nil

It was a chant more than a song, really.

Still, Sam was surprised when Gene added his voice to the team, and oh god did it feel good, they felt like they were all on the same side, for once. Sam crossed his arms, grinned at Litton, and felt a funny inner glee of a sort he hadn’t experienced since his school years.

It was the feeling of belonging, of being where he was meant to be. 

And then fists started flying and he stopped thinking about it.

 

2\. Trafford Arms

Gene wasn’t singing to him. Sam knew that. But in a weird sort of way Gene was singing for him; doing this entire undercover job because he trusted Sam’s plan, because he was willing to follow through despite his misgivings (“Misgivings!” Sam heard Gene’s bellow in his head, “More like bloody reservations, Mr. Picky Pain!”). So here Gene was, jumping up and down with a crowd of football louts, so deep under cover that Sam wasn’t sure if he remembered that it was a put on.

Sam took a deep breath of the funk of the Arms, the stink of old upholstery and stale beer and aftershave, and felt something stir deep inside. A kind of panic. How deep undercover am I? Do I even want to know? This all felt so real, more real by the day, more immediate and grounded than the clean, air-conditioned sanity of 2006.

He shook his head, shouldered into the crowd. “Gene, can I have a word?”

 

3\. Happy Birthday

They had done it up right. A banner: Happy Birthday Dorothy! All the words spelled correctly. Party hats, a cake which Annie carried in just after Gene announced beer o’ clock, her dimples revealing the depth of her mirth. Cans of beer, bottles of whisky. Before things got too wild someone started singing—Sam wasn’t sure who, but within seconds everyone had joined in.

“Happy birthday to you…” Chris was grinning, Annie was watching Sam with great affection.

“Happy birthday to you…” Vince, Geoff, they all were belting it out, even Ray throwing his head back without a sneer.

“Happy birthday dear Samuel…” Gene met Sam’s eyes, still singing. He had dimples, too, Sam noticed, and green eyes intent on Sam’s face, watching for any sign of displeasure.

Sam grinned back at him and raised his glass for a toast.

It was going to be a good evening.

 

4\. Lullaby

The fever had broken at last. Sam rolled onto his side, no longer shaking with chills or burning up, but feeling wrung out and so tired that merely breathing took an effort. The blankets were tangled around him but he couldn’t rouse himself enough to fix them.

Footsteps, and a hand covered his forehead.

“Better,” growled Gene. “Think you could drink some water?”

“Unh,” he responded. Gentle hands moved his legs, pulled the blankets free, eased them back over him. Sam cracked an eye open. “Where’d you come from?”

“Been here all day, Sammy-boy.” He settled into the chair at the bedside with a grunt.

“What time is it?” Sam rasped, not really caring. His eyes were already closing.

“Bedtime. You need your beauty sleep, Gladys.” The blankets were tucked up around his shoulders. Sam pressed his face into the pillow.

“Close your eyes, go to sleep, Mr. Sandman is waiting…”

 

5\. Frank

Six months after moving in to the house, Sam took it upon himself to clean Gene’s cellar. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he was curious about what he might find. There was an entire history that he knew nothing about; he had met Gene’s wife only once or twice before she vanished from the scene, heard a few brief anecdotes about Gene’s brother Stu. There must be so much more.

It was an odd collection; suitcases full of old clothing, stuff from Gene’s stint in National Service. Books, tools, paperwork and a few photo albums. When he found a box of LPs he decided to carry it upstairs and take a look in the light of the kitchen.

He flipped through a wider variety than he had expected; classical, big band, Roger Whittaker… And one by Frank Sinatra. “A Swingin’ Affair,” Sam said aloud, tickled far more than he had imagined being. He carried it into the study where Gene’s record player sat gathering dust, blew some dust off the needle and put the disc on the machine.

A moment later the horns began to play and then Frank’s smooth voice came from the speakers…

And another voice came from the doorway behind Sam.

“I could show the world how to smile, I could be glad all of the while…” Gene had it in him to sing, Sam had to admit. He had a rich, gravelly voice, and was able to hit a note. He took a few swaying steps into the room as he continued, “I could change the gray skies to blue, if I had you…”

He held out his hand. Sam took it, was pulled to his feet and into Gene’s arms as he continued, “I could leave the old days behind, leave all my pals, I’d never mind. I could start my life anew, if I had you…”

 

6\. Saturday Night Fever

Sam brought the album home. Gene had refused to go to see the movie so Sam had convinced Annie to accompany him, to Gene’s great disgust.

“It’s a classic,” Sam enthused, ripping off the plastic wrapping with enthusiasm. “Just wait, the beat is fantastic. You like dancing. Once in a while.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Tyler, but you don’t hear me agreeing, do you?” Gene leaned grumpily against the doorframe, arms crossed.

Sam put the needle to the vinyl, began tapping his toe as a steady beat began. “Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk,” he sang along in a falsetto. A moment later he was on his feet, hips swaying, and then he was dancing, and… god, Gene had always found the tight trousers alluring, but somehow watching Tyler squirm in them, watching him switch his feet, clap his hands, deliver his most come-hither glare from under his eyebrows… all that put the trousers in the background.

Gene captured Sam’s hands, brought him crushingly close, rocking rhythmically in place to the music. “Classic,” he growled, and bit a line down Sam's neck.

“I’m stayin’ alive…” Sam agreed, breathlessly.


End file.
